


Tea for Two

by TeaCupsandUmbrellas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, So fluffy I may start throwing up, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaCupsandUmbrellas/pseuds/TeaCupsandUmbrellas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is trying to make Greg's life better with a bit of an upgrade. For some reason the good Inspector is not very receptive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea for Two

"Please allow me to do this, Gregory."

"No, it's ridiculous."

"In fact, it is not. It is merely an . . . upgrade, if you like."

"An upgrade? I find mine to be just fine, thank you."

"Well, I disagree. Really, this would be so much better."

Mycroft was sitting at his desk, his hands folded in his lap, his lips holding a hint of a smile. It was maddening.

"No, I won't do it." He can't dictate everything about Greg's life. "I don't care what you say. Everyone at work will notice, and –"

"You say that as though it's a bad thing."

"Well, then everyone will want some, and it'd be a hassle and a huge distraction, really."

Gregory sighed, looking across the table at his partner. On the table was a porcelain tea pot, filled with dark, aromatic liquid that at least smelled better than his usual discounted, weak, out-of-a-teabag drink.

"I have to drink the shite at work, you know. I'll just get spoiled."

Mycroft's smile should have warned him, but to be honest the scent of the tea was doing to things to his head, not to mention Mycroft was wearing considerably less than he usually did at his office. No jacket or tie, just a thin white shirt and waistcoat, which hung open.

"That could be handled quite easily, you know." Mycroft lifted the delicate pot gently, pouring the liquid into his own cup with impossible grace. Not a single drop spilt. Usually when Greg poured tea it splashed all over the place. Mycroft hummed quietly, lifting the tea cup to inhale the light steam that wafted from it.

Gregory cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

"Oh, did you change your mind, darling?" Mycroft's eyes smiled above the rim of the cup. "It does smell delicious doesn't it?"

God damn his voice. "Don't you have work to do or something? Stopping a third world war? Anything?"

"I would in fact be stopping the eighth almost-third-war, and no, actually. I cleared the next two hours just for you."

Gregory was a bit surprised. Mycroft never cleared even an hour for him, much less two.

Mycroft smiled again, damn him. "You looked shocked, Gregory. I thought you would need a little persuasion to try the newest addition to my list, you see."

Oh, god, the list. Yes, the list of Mycroft's favorite teas was quite extensive. What really surprised Greg, though, was that his partner actually did drink all the tea on that list. Which was utterly mental, in his opinion. He just needed one decent tea to last him his whole life. Not that he drank decent tea, but it was all he could afford in large amounts and he really didn't need Mycroft buying his tea, too.

"Look, I'm not having you pay for my tea on top of everything else, and by the smell of that stuff, it probably costs more than a month's worth of my usual stuff."

"Oh, really, Gregory, you think that's what it costs? Preposterous." Mycroft took a sip of the tea, so delicate it should have looked ridiculous for a man, but it was Mycroft so of course it just looked sexy as all fuck. "It costs two months worth."

Gregory just stared at the man for a moment. "No. I'm not drinking it." He stared as Mycroft continued to drink it, sighing contentedly every so often, even making a noise he'd only ever heard in the bedroom. It cannot be that good, he's just teasing.

Still . . .

Finishing his cup, Mycroft placed it back on the table with a very delicate clink and licked his lips obscenely.

Gregory found that he was leaning forward without him even realizing it. Mycroft just smiled, waiting for . . . something. And god help him, the scent of the tea was intoxicating. He began to wonder what it would taste like on Mycroft's lips.

Mycroft tutted, shaking his head. "Careful, love, you may knock over the –'

It didn't really matter what he was going to say, and he never did get to say it. Gregory leaned forward, reaching to grip Mycroft by the back of his neck. The younger man must have tactfully moved the tea set to the side because he didn't hear anything breaking as he pressed his lips to Mycroft's.

Smiling, Mycroft allowed Gregory's tongue to slip into his mouth.

Oh, dear god, the taste. Not only was it Mycroft, which was delicious enough, but the sweet-and-bitter taste of the tea mingled with the gentle spice of him, making an addictive combination. He was making some very obscene noises, but he really didn't care at that moment.

Mycroft pulled away, his breathing slightly labored. "Well." He raised an eyebrow as Gregory sat back down, blushing.

"Um, right." Gregory cleared his throat, pointedly not looking at Mycroft.

"I assume it was to your liking?" Mycroft smiled at Greg's confused look. "The tea, that is."

"Oh, yeah, it's bloody fantastic, but –"

And suddenly a cup was placed in front of him, and the scent was wafting toward him and he knew it would be exactly the right temperature, because Mycroft had made it and if Mycroft didn't do everything perfectly –

"You don't have to, really," Mycroft leaned back in his chair, still smiling. "But you did seem to enjoy it a moment ago."

The cup didn't look nearly as good in Gregory's hands as it had in Mycroft's, but it really was too late now. He lifted the cup to his lips, taking a very tentative sip . . .

"Fuck me," Gregory moaned, taking a deeper gulp.

Mycroft laughed, a deep, warm chuckle that filled the office. He shook his head, almost grinning at his partner. "You are absolutely ridiculous, you realize."

"I've been told as much," Gregory set the empty cup down, looking forlorn. "I'm never going to be able to drink the other stuff ever again, am I?"

"I should hope not," Mycroft wrinkled his nose in distaste. "And if you are worried about the rest of your team drinking it all, I could get you a personal –"

"No," Gregory warned. "Seriously, do not get me a personal-whatever. Knowing you, it would be the most expensive bloody thing ever and knowing me it would break in a week and then you would buy another one and so on. No." And really, he shouldn't be the only one enjoying this magical substance. His team worked just as hard as he did. "I am going to hide it from your brother, though."

Mycroft laughed softly. "It would be futile, if he really wanted any, but I would like to see that."

Gregory shook his head at his drained cup. "You're a bastard, you know that?"

"I have been informed so, yes." Mycroft inclined his head. Greg was about to say something else, but just then Mycroft's phone rang. Sighing, the he answered. "I hope you realize I have cleared the next –" his face darkened. "You are interrupting a very important meeting, sir. No, but it might as well be. Very well, but I hope you realize any more mishaps will be on your head." He hung up, looking apologetic. "I am so very sorry, Gregory."

"Not a chance you could tell me what that was about?" It was a half-hearted effort, he already knew the answer.

"No, indeed. I am sorry, but it seems I do have a few messes to clean up." He muttered something about bloody idiotic politicians. Gregory smiled at that. Mycroft very rarely swore, and only when something was either very distressing or, well.

"It's alright, love. I'm sure Sherlock will be breathing down my neck soon about a case anyway, and I know for a fact I have paperwork. Will I be seeing you tonight?"

"I hope so, but one can never be sure." Mycroft stood as Gregory did. He cupped his partner's face in his hands and kissed him gently.

"Bloody idiotic politicians," Gregory sighed. Mycroft chuckled, moving across the room to open the door.

"Until next time," he said almost sadly.

Gregory left the Diogenes Club quickly, getting into an unmarked black car that took him to the Yard without him even saying so. He got weird looks from his team, which he wasn't really worried about. They didn't exactly know why he spent so much time with the psychopath's brother, so he got weird looks a lot. It wasn't until he opened the door to his office did he see what the reason was today.

A few dozen small cases of the tea he just drank were neatly stacked against the wall, directly insight of the door. Another case sat on his desk, a note on top.

Thought you might like these as an apology. I love you.

-MH

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work by me, however I do not own the characters. These characters were originally owned by Arthur Conan Doyle, and these versions are owned by Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. I just wrote the story because it's fun and I do not make money from it.


End file.
